


Whatever It Takes

by periwinklewhite



Series: Destiny's Call [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Betrothed, Druid Kingdom, Fluff and Angst, Good Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine is comedic relief, M/M, Magic Ban Lifted (Merlin), Manipulation, Prince Merlin (Merlin), Slow Burn, Underage Merlin, canon events
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:59:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklewhite/pseuds/periwinklewhite
Summary: Uther Pendragon’s hatred for magic was born from the loss of his wife, feeling betrayed he had abandoned centuries old traditions and began the Purge, seeking to kill all that had magic. Uther ruled with fear for over 20 years until the Lady Morgana had been revealed to have magic, this had forced the king to change once more in order to protect her. 20 years of hunting and killing cannot just be forgotten and in an attempt to bring peace to Camelot and show his good intentions, Uther had agreed to bethored his son to one of the Druid king’s children, a union that would agree with Druidic laws and traditions. This is how Prince Arthur had found himself betrothed  to the strangest man he had ever met, no, not even a man but the boy who was the young druid prince. He had no idea how much this union would change his life, or just how important Merlin was going to be. Destiny is a weird thing and no one can escape it.





	1. A New Path

**Author's Note:**

> First of all I sadly do not own anything about the Merlin series and this is a disclaimer as there would be some dialogues and events that are taken out of the series itself.
> 
> About the underage warning, it's mostly to be safe because while it would take time for Merlin and Arthur to actually be in a real relationship, Merlin is in fact only 15 at the start of this story (while Arthur is 21), that and the fact that the age of consent differs depending on the country you live in (it's 16 here), I decided to use this tag as a safety measure. 
> 
> Also, this is an old work which I'm going over to publish for the first time, I plan to post on a weekly basis as I really need to go over all of the chapters and fix some things.

_**CHAPTER I - A NEW PATH** _

**_Arthur 1_ **

 

His entire life had always been headed in the same direction, the lessons learned were firm and unyielding in their nature, but those were the life of a prince - a life with a path that must be followed, day in and day out. He had never thought that his life could change drastically, not this way at the very least.

Arthur had grown up with wars and battles, tales of knights and bravery, it was in the nature of a prince and a knight of Camelot to protect his kingdom and its people. He rode with his men and fought for the peace and prosperity of the land and if it had been war that changed his path than it would have been something that he could accept. Alas the change did not come from an enemy but from within the castle itself, from one of those he cared for the most.

It had been almost a year since that _accident_ , the day in which everything changed and Arthur could still remember the shock and the fear. It had been the first time the prince had found himself standing against his father, shaken by the thought of what the king was capable of doing.

Arthur could also remember the fear in Morgana’s blue eyes, the way the confidence that she always had wavered and she held onto his arm, almost desperate. He had never seen her as afraid as she was that day, truly believing that it might be her last.

However nothing had surprised him that day as Uther’s face as he looked at his ward, shock, betrayal and hurt all flashing in one moment. No one in the throne room knew what the king would do, his hatred for magic was well known but so was his love for his ward.

It was Gaius who had spoken first that day, his voice gentle yet firm as he tried to soothe the king’s mind, trying to explain that Morgana had not betrayed him, that the type of magic she had shown was not yet the one that can be taught, but rather raw and emotional -- the type of magic one was born with.

Arthur wasn’t quite sure what to think, he had grown up learning that magic was evil and corrupting, a force that must be eradicated but this was Morgana, a woman that despite her aggravating nature at times was like a sister to him. Arthur refused to watch her die, even if it meant that he must disobey his king. He knew, even then, that this would change everything but he knew that he would deal with it later.

To his surprise, and perhaps to those of all that knew Uther Pendragon, the king had listened or at the very least was unwilling to hold Morgana to the same standards in which he previously held those with magic.

Arthur knows that had there not been as many witnesses to Morgana’s magic as they had been, he would have tried to keep it a secret but since he couldn’t, the laws had to be changed. Many saw the hypocrisy of Uther’s actions and it had not escaped Arthur’s eye either, yet peace was better than war.

For the first time in twenty years, magic was welcomed in Camelot again and Arthur’s life had changed forever.

x - x - x -x -x

“So,” came a strong voice from behind him, the sound of hooves echoing in the silence of the forest. “You want to tell me that our sudden delay in patrol has nothing to do with the Druid envoys that arrive at Camelot today?” the voice is teasing and although Arthur cannot see the knight, he knows that Gwaine is raising his eyebrow at him.

Arthur frowned, raising his chin ever so slightly, because even if Gwaine’s words had truth in them, he was not about to admit to it. “Are you suggesting we should ignore word of rouge sorcerers harming the outer villages?” he questioned instead, his voice sharp and not betraying his emotions.

“I’m saying that the reports seemed to come off in quite the comfortable timing,” Arthur could hear the smirk in the knight voice, resisting the urge to turn around and smack him over the head.

“And I’m saying that you can’t talk to me like this, Gwaine,” Arthur snapped, rewarded by a few chuckles but nothing more. Arthur had insisted on leaving for the patrol himself, saying that it was a sign of good will for the crown prince to deal with magical problems in a just way, to prove that Camelot was willing to accept magic.

In reality, Arthur knew that the trip just might be long enough for him to miss out the arrival of the Druid envoys, who were only really there for him.

Many things had changed since Morgana had been revealed to have magic and Uther had decided to lift the ban on magic, however the bad blood could not simply be erased by such action alone. Arthur had been there when his father had met the Druid king - not having been aware that the druids even had a king before then. The druids, according to history at least, had been the ruling party and representative of the magical community and making peace with them was perhaps the biggest step Uther had been planning to make.

At the time, Arthur had been all for it, but as it turned out, his father had picked Arthur himself as the hidden card, the way to seal the deal. The prince could still remember the horror which he felt when the two kings shook hands, agreeing for the marriage of Arthur with one of the Druid king’s children.

Said child that was arriving today with the Druid envoys. Hence Arthur trying to avoid the castle as much as he could.

Not much was known about the mysterious royal, not even whether Arthur was to marry as druids, with the nature of their magic, could bear children regardless of their gender. Arthur had been mortified by the news, but all Uther cared about was the peace, the unions and for Arthur to eventually have an heir. Geoffrey had later calmed the prince, revealing that in the old ways, marrying a druid man had been considered a high honour.

Regardless, it had always been one part of his life that Arthur had hoped he’d have a say in but his father made it clear, he would marry the druid prince or princess, there would be no escaping it.

“Come on, you’re prince Arthur,” Gwaine’s voice echoed from beside him, more comforting and quiet now that he was close. “People practically worship the land on which you walk, a little druid shouldn’t scare you,” the knight was close enough to nudge Arthur’s side, making the prince glare at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not scared,” only that Arthur was because it was a life commitment, one that very well could affect the entire kingdom if he managed to mess it up. “If anything, the little druid should be thankful to be betrothed to me,” he added, an air of arrogance around him like the armour he had made it into.

“Real almighty, princess,” Gwaine laughed and Arthur shoved at him, nearly knocking him off his horse. “Oi!” the knight called out, a big smile on his lips. Gwaine was a real idiot, but also a real comfort at times.

They would be arriving at Camelot after dinner, successfully delaying Arthur’s meeting with his betrothed for the next day. Just a bit longer to the delay, just a bit more time for Arthur to be a free man, not committed to one person for the rest of his or their lives.

He should have had more time, but ensuring the peace after so long as important and Morgana was excited to meet the druids and learn from them, Arthur couldn’t take it away from her. Still, he just wanted to hide.

At least for a little bit longer.

Gwaine had made sure to be loud and obnoxious for the rest of the ride back to the citadel, knowing just what to do in order to make Arthur forget of the responsibilities that waited for him and enjoying the remaining of this silly patrol.

Maybe he’ll even throw Gwaine to the stocks back home, it’s not like the knight didn’t deserve it and it always helped putting the prince in a good mood.

x - x - x -x -x

It was thanks to some kind of a miracle that Arthur had managed to avoid meeting his betrothed the next morning, however, Morgana seemed to be throwing amused glances his way whenever she crossed his path. It was irritating, but the lady refused to answer any of his questions, helping to put the prince in a rather sore mood.

People whispered a bit about the envoys, but Arthur truly did not want to know anything at the moment. He had enough with the way Morgana was acting and the weight of having to marry a complete stranger added on top it, he didn’t need to listen to rumours and whispers as well.

He hadn’t thrown Gwaine to the stocks, which proved to be useful as he went to train with his knights, aiming to take out his frustration through the best way that he was familiar with. Clashing swords and throwing knives at things.

Morris, his rather useless manservant, was unlucky enough to have to deal with a sore Arthur and it was not long before the skinny man was running around, hiding behind a shield while Arthur threw knives at it, laughing along with the other knights. Part of Arthur knew how terrible the situation was, but sometimes someone else’s misfortune was all that was needed in order to make him feel better.

Laughter echoed all around him as Morris stumbled over his own feet, squeaking as he tried to protect himself from the daggers.

It wasn’t too long before the manservant tripped over a cobblestone, crushing to the ground as the shield scattered away from him.

Arthur was about to comment, laugh at the poor man’s expense when someone stepped over the shield, stopping it in its place. Annoyed of the disturbance, the prince looked up at the owner of the foot.

“Hey, come on, that’s enough,” said the man, well, not a man but a boy. He was tall and skinny with a mop of black hair, had a snowy skin that would make most ladies of the courts jealous. His face was sculpted with high cheekbones, yet there was a soft roundness to his face that would surely disappear as he’d grow older. He wore simple clothes, but of high quality that could suggest wealth - perhaps a merchant’s son, yet it was his blue eyes which were the most striking, shining in the sun.

Arthur stared at the boy, obviously taken by surprise. “What?”

The boy rolled his eyes, holding himself with confidence that could only belong to the young. “You’ve had your fun my friend,” he said and Arthur could hardly believe what he was hearing, the ignorance of this child.

“Do I know you?” he asked, gritting his teeth as he took a step closer to the boy.

“Er, I’m Merlin,” the boy said, his confidence flattering for a short moment as he held out his hand for Arthur to take.

The prince snorted, “so I don’t know you.”

“No,” Merlin answered, slightly confused by the direction this situation was taking, obviously unprepared for the change in control. Arthur could laugh if he wasn’t so annoyed with his behavior.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the younger, aware that wearing armour and towering over him made him look rather intimidating. “Yet you called me _friend_.”

“That was my mistake,” Merlin answered, his own annoyance at the situation starting to show.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Yeah, I’d never have a friend who could be such an ass,” the boy said before he turned to leave. Arthur was dumbstruck, no one (apart from maybe Gwaine on occasions) had ever talked to him like that and there was this young and ignorant boy talking back to him as if Arthur was nothing but an average commoner.

“Or I one who could be that stupid,” Arthur snorted, it wasn’t true - Gwaine was his friend after all. However, the words seemed to affect the boy who stopped walking and turned to look back at the prince. “Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?”

Merlin looked at him with something akin confusion as Arthur walked closer, the blonde easily taking over the situation. As if a small boy like Merlin was ever a challenge.

“No,” and maybe it was Arthur’s own imagination, but he could swear that Merlin’s voice sounded somewhat weaker now.

“Would you like me to help you?” he asked, feeling encouraged by the jeers that were echoing from the direction of his knights as he stalked towards the boy.

Merlin seemed to regain his confidence at the words, his blue eyes turning a shade darker as he crossed his arms, only managing to appear more childlike in the process. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Arthur couldn’t contain his laughter at the comment, to think that this little skinny kid was threatening him, the best Camelot had to offer. “Why?” he laughed, tilting his head to the side as his eyes looked at Merlin, like a predator looking at its prey. “What are _you_ going to do to me?”

For a moment, Merlin’s lips twitched, almost as if he was trying to suppress a smile.   
“You have no idea.”

Arthur spread his arms, his smile growing wider as his mood improved by this small rude boy, just what he needed to forget all about the druids. “Be my guest! Come on! Come on!” he called out, knowing that the youth was unlikely to turn away now, Arthur was a teenager not that long ago, stubborn and reckless. “Come oooon!”

Just as expected, the boy’s eyes narrowed and he moved to take a swing at Arthur, but the prince was prepared and more experienced, it only took him a moment to grab Merlin’s arm and twist it behind his back.

He could hear the knights cheer, but felt a twig of guilt at the grunt of pain from the boy. “I could have you thrown to jail for that,” he informed the boy but released his hand nevertheless -- he was just a stupid kid, after all, it wasn’t a fair fight.

Merlin rubbed his arm, eyes dark as he looked to meet Arthur’s eyes. “What, who do you think you are? A king?”

“No,” Arthur answered, his tone a shade darker. “I’m his son, Arthur.”

The horrified look that took over Merlin’s face was quite fitting, a true proof that this strange boy truly had no idea who Arthur was. Then the boy huffed and turned to leave, for once trying to do the smart thing and walk away from a situation in which he could never win.

“Aw, don’t run away!” Arthur wasn’t even sure why he called him back, there was just something about this boy that was entertaining, even more so than using Morris as a moving target practice.

Merlin stopped a few feet away, “look, I told you you’re an ass,” he said, making Arthur’s gape at him, the nerves of that kid. “I just didn’t realise that you were a royal one,” he said as he turned to look back at Arthur.

“Watch it, I could take you apart with one blow,” Arthur told him, mood growing somewhat darker. “I’ve been trained to kill since birth.”

It was the wrong thing to say, as Merlin’s eyes grew even darker at the information. “And how long have you been training to be a prat?” he spat, his cheek clear and loud.

“You can’t address me like that!”

Merlin rolled his eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said, yet he did not sound apologetic at all. “How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?” At that Merlin gave a small mocking bow.

Arthur smirked at him then, shaking his head as he once again walked towards the boy, he could not just let him go because he was young -- no one was allowed to make a fool of Arthur is such a public setting and get away with it.

“Sire!” a voice called out before Arthur could reach Merlin, if it wasn’t of the urgency of the call, Arthur would have ignored it completely for the sake of the younger troublemaker.

The man calling was unfamiliar to Arthur, his clothes were of high quality and belonged in the court and a magnificent sword was attached to his belt. His long blonde hair fell over his shoulders effortlessly and his green eyes were wide and urgent, what more they were not fixed on Arthur, but on the boy behind him.

Merlin seemed to have noticed that too, his eyes returning to the same shade of blue as a small smile spread across his lips. “Well, that’s my que,” he said before he rushed towards the market with surprising feet, just managing to escape Arthur’s grasp before he disappeared into the crowd.

Arthur was furious as he turned to look at the newcomer, the man which allowed that stupid kid to escape. The man sighed as he stopped next to Arthur, shaking his head as he looked at the direction Merlin had ran into.

“Forgive me, Prince Arthur,” he said, turning to face the blonde. “Merlin had been quite restless since our arrival, he is not quite used to stone castles,” there was familiarity at his tone, almost as if Arthur had been meant to know who that boy was. “I do hope he did not cause you any trouble.”

The prince of Camelot was about to give this stranger, whoever he may be a piece of his mind when he noticed the mark on the man’s neck. It was bold and clear to the eye, the one thing that differentiates them from everyone else, the triskelion.

No, it could not be.

Arthur turned to look at the road leading to the market, eyes wide as he thought about that boy he had just came across. “Who is he?” he demanded.

The man, the druid, seemed quite surprised by the question but then a small smile spread across his lips and he chuckled. “Merlin, sire,” he began, clearly amused by the situation. “Is the the druid prince you’ve been betrothed to.”

Horror flashed across the prince’s face as he turned back to the druid next to him, this was not happening.

He could not be betrothed to this _Merlin_. Firstly, Merlin was clearly an idiot, secondly he but a child! But most importantly, he was an idiot.

“Oh princess, you’re really in deep this time,” Gwaine laughed from where he was standing.

For the first time since he met the knight, Arthur found himself agreeing all hearthly. He was doomed.

 


	2. Trouble's Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been really enjoying the feedback so far and am so glad people are reading it, so for a good start, enjoy the next chapter.

 

**CHAPTER II - TROUBLE'S CALL  
**   ** _  
_ ** **_Merlin 1_ **

 

If he tried hard enough, he could remember simpler days. Days in which he had no name and no responsibilities -- days of being free and careless, not a druid prince. 

He hadn’t been born to be a prince, that the boy was quite confident in, but destiny was a funny thing, and he had found himself at the wrong place at the wrong time, or perhaps maybe just the right place, in just about the right time. 

His earliest memory is of the forest and a unicorn, perhaps there was also a cave, he isn’t quite sure, he believes that he was about four. The unicorn, Evin was how he had called him had been taking care of him, protecting him from the world and being his only company. Yet the boy was always curious, as little boys often were, he sought to learn about things deeper in the forest.

Evin warned him to be careful, but what boy of four winters ever was? 

The boy had always been used to the concept of everything belonging to nature, he was allowed to take what he needed as long as he did not harm those around him. Everything belonged to everyone and to no one at the same time. 

He yelped when a strong hand grabbed him, dark eyes looking down as he took a bite of the bread in his hand. The man was the biggest the boy had seen until this point, a bit fat too if he was allowed to say so himself, but as the boy later found out, he was also the owner of the small wooden structure from which had picked up the bread. 

He can remember looking up to that man, fear shining in his bright blue as he looked up. The man was not a druid but a travelling merchant, he did not appreciate grabby kids trying to steal from him.

Thinking back to it, he doesn’t know why had never dropped the bread, but as it was, the boy had hugged it closer to his chest and tried to run -- he had never tasted something like that before, he hadn’t been able to see the harm. 

Although he had managed to wiggle free, it did not stop the man or his son from chasing after him, and the boy wasn’t familiar enough with that part of the woods to be able to just disappear. They called him a thief and a rat, but the boy was only familiar with the latter term at the time.

He screamed when he was forced to come to a stop in a clearing, running right into a group of people, the likes of which he had seen before, the likes of which Evin had called druids. 

“I should have known a nasty thief would be a druid,” the merchant spat, his eyes narrowed as he came to a stop in front of the group, clearly aware that he was outnumbered. 

The boy flinched when he felt a hand placed on his shoulder, one of the druids looking down at him with a soft smile. “Have you taken something which belonged to that man?” he asked, looking at the bread in the boy’s arms while pulling a few leaves out of his black hair. 

“I never ate something like this, mister,” he said, voice shaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to upset him,” and he hadn’t, he didn’t know that someone could own something. 

The druid speaking to him remain smiling, nodding his head towards another of his group, “for your troubles,” he said as another druid moved to offer a few coins to the merchant, the latter which eyed the group for a moment before going back to where he had come from. “You cannot take what does not belong to you.”

The boy bit his lip, blue eyes looking at the ground. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Now, what’s your name, boy?” the druid asked, his hand squeezing his shoulder gently in encouragement. Still, the boy simply looked at him, not knowing how to answer the question, Evin had never been able to give him a name and the boy had never asked for one. The druid, perhaps sensing that something was wrong, spoke again. “And your parents, where are they?”

This didn’t help, for the boy had no parents and no company but that of the unicorn who guarded him. “I have an Evin,” he said after a short moment, blue eyes looking back at the forest about him. 

“Alright, can I take you back to Evin then?” the druid asked, ignoring some protest from behind him. The boy thought of it for a moment, unsure of what he should do, but then he nodded, he could sense that this druid was a good man, he wouldn’t harm him. 

The druid offered the boy his hand and child gladly took it, leading the small group of druids through the trees and back to the cave that was his home, unaware that in that very moment the wheels of destiny were turning.

The boy hadn’t been able to find Evin that day, in fact, it would be years until he would cross paths with the unicorn again, but for the ancient magical creature it had not mattered, he had only ever wanted the small magical boy to be safe and the boy, Merlin they would name him, could not be safer than he was with the old druid king.

Merlin had a great destiny ahead of him, he was now exactly where he was needed.

x - x - x -x -x

A small sigh left the king as he looked down at the small boy who had been escorted into the hall. The boy’s clothes were tattered, he had a small cut under his forehead, and his blue eyes were puffy with tears. It had been four years since he had brought the boy into his home, each day wishing to avoid situations as this and yet they came more often than they did not.

The king knew that many questioned his decision at first, but while many still disagreed about everything he had given this orphaned boy, he also knew that many had grown fond of him.

“Father,” the boy sobbed, he was only about eight winters old, and he fits perfectly in king’s arms as he wrapped him a tight hug, unable to deny him the comfort that he so clearly needed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fight anyone. I’m sorry,” he continued to cry, burying his face in the older man’s shoulder as his tears shook him.

He rocked the child in his arms gently, listening to his sobbing apologies as he released the pent up feelings, knowing all others would have left already.

“Shh, Merlin,” he said, stroking his arms when he felt the boy calming in his arms. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Merlin simply shook his head, his blue eyes filled with the kind of pain that broke even the king’s heart before the eyes disappeared, once again buried in the blue robes. He didn’t pressure Merlin to speak, especially not when the boy was as distressed as he was, he’d wait, the boy always spoke his mind at the end.

“Why were you in the forest that day, father?” he asked after a while, not bringing his face from its hiding place against the king’s robes. 

The king sighed, knowing that once again he would have to speak with the leaders of the clans, their children had never been quite understanding of Merlin’s situation, they were young and refused to see him as the prince the king had made him into.

Slowly, the old druid moved to unwrap Merlin from his body, forcing the boy to stand in front of him and look in his eyes. “Do you know that your brother Dorian has meaningful dreams?” he asked, watching as Merlin sniffled and slowly nodded his head. “Well, Dorian had told me of one such dream, he said he saw a place and that if I were to visit there, I would find the most precious treasure.”

Merlin wiped some tears from his eyes, he liked Dorian the most out of his adopted siblings, Anna and Elias never cared much because they thought he was a stupid child - their words, not Merlin’s, and Celia was annoying, and she always had to show him that she was better at everything. Dorian wasn’t like any of them, he was quiet and always let Merlin hide in his room, or would cover if Merlin just wanted to run into the woods, he also thought that Dorian was the smartest person in the world after their father.

“What did you find then?” he asked, eyes curious but still hurting.

The king smiled at him, stroking his hair gently, “you,” he answered simply. “I found you, Merlin,” he spoke so softly, his eyes filled with such love that his heart could burst. “You’ve become my most precious treasure.”

x - x - x -x -x

The young prince ducked between the shops at the market, the smile that he wore only minutes before gone as he was fuming over the situation he had just walked away from.

He had actually been looking forward to meeting this prince Arthur, the way people had been talking about him and praising him, Merlin had genuinely believed that he must be some kind of hero. He must have done something to make people love him as much as they seemed to, he had been so hopeful.

Which was why the disappointment stung as much as it had, he would have never thought that the arrogant bully he had seen could turn out to be the golden prince. Merlin wanted to tear his hair out at the thought, how was he supposed to spend the rest of his life with such a pig? There had to be some kind of a mistake there, Merlin’s luck couldn’t be that bad.

Or maybe it was, the young prince could practically see Dorian’s smirking face in his mind, the older prince would be cryptic as always and speak of how Merlin would get everything that he deserved. 

He shuddered at the thought of having done something so terrible that what he deserved was Arthur Pendragon. Not even the looks of the prince should be enough to forgive him for that horrid behaviour. 

“I’ve been trained to kill since birth,” Merlin mumbled to himself in annoyance. “How stupid he is to even think it’s a good thing,” he said, trying to regain control over his emotions, the last thing he needed was to set a fire in the middle of the city’s market. It was in these moments that Merlin missed the forest, missed not being a bloody prince so he could just scream. Scream until his throat was sore and all of this frustration was expelled from his body.

The boy thumped his feet on the ground, fully aware of how childish the act was but unable to contain himself. “Are you alright?” a soft voice called, and Merlin looked up to see a young woman.

Her dark skin glistened in the sun, and she was holding a basket filled with different fabrics, her eyes were soft, and a few rebellious curls framed her face, Merlin felt like he had seen her before, but he couldn’t quite place where.

“I’m fine,” he said with a sigh, moving his hand through his hair and messing it up. “Thank you, though. I’m Merlin,” he introduced himself with a small smile. 

The woman smiled back at him, “I’m well aware sire,” she said, and the boy flinched, he never liked being referred to with titles. “I’m Guinevere, I’m the Lady Morgana’s maid,” she explained, and Merlin’s mouth fell open in a silent understanding, that must have been why she looked familiar.

“Oh,” he said, feeling slightly bad for not having remembered her. “I’m sorry I should have recognised you.”

Guinevere seemed surprised by his words, quickly shaking her head at him. “Please, don’t apologise, sire, there’s truly no need,” she said, almost urgent. Merlin couldn’t help but think that she must have not seen much kindness from the court to react the way she did, it saddened him. “Do you need me to show you the way back to the castle? You hardly should be out here on your own.”

Merlin’s eyes snapped back to her at that, “I can take care of myself!” he said, almost offended.

“Oh no, sire, I wasn’t trying to say that you can’t,” but Merlin could see that she was sceptical, everyone always was. “It’s just that many don’t know who you are yet and after what happened with Prince Arthur-” she quickly stopped herself, noting the darkening of Merlin’s eyes. “I mean, it was very brave, and Arthur was a real bully, but I’m glad you walked away.”

“I-I could beat him!” Merlin insisted, frowning when Guinevere raised an eyebrow at him. “I really could!”

“You think?” she asked, “because you don’t look like one of these big, muscle-y kind of fellows,” she added, and Merlin groaned. That was what happened when people lived without magic for as long as the people of Camelot did, it wasn’t all about sheer physical power.

“Thanks,” he said, slightly offended but used to the judgement nevertheless. 

Guinevere, who was quick enough to understand that she said the wrong thing tried to correct the situation. “No! No, I’m sure you’re stronger than you look, sire. It’s just, erm... Arthur’s one of these real rough, tough, save the world kind of men, and... well…”

“What?”

“You don’t look like that.”

Merlin shook his head at her, moving his hand over the basket as his eyes flashed bright gold and the fabrics began to dance above the basket, refolding themselves before going back to the basket. “You’d find, Guinevere, that sometimes it’s not what’s on the outside, but on the inside.”

Guinevere looked at him, brown eyes wide in surprise as she seemed to struggle with what she had seen right now. 

“Druid prince, remember?” he chuckled, which seemed to have shaken the maid from whatever shock she had gotten into at the easy demonstrate of magic. 

“Sire, please forgive me, I was out of place,” she said, lowering her eyes to the ground, but Merlin shook his head, that wasn’t what he wanted, he rather liked her honesty and spirit. It was hard to meet people like that these days.

“No need to apologise, you’ve done nothing wrong,” he assured her, a big smile on his lips. “And please, call me Merlin.”

Guinevere smiled back at him at that, “alright.”

Merlin beamed at her, maybe he just found himself an alley in this big stone castle, he could really use one. “Then I’ll see you around Guinevere.”

“See you around, Merlin.”

x - x - x -x -x

“Stop doing that,” the blond druid said, moving to readjust the delicate silver circlet atop the boy’s head, flattening his dark curls in the process. “Merlin!” he shook his head, moving the smaller hands away when they tried to unfasten the buckle of his cape.

The boy pouted, more than aware that this kind of behaviour hadn’t affected Floris for years, but Merlin never stopped trying. “But it’s uncomfortable,” he whined.

At the moment, the boy had to replace the simplicity of his favourite brown trousers and blue tunic with more appropriate garments for the feast. The black trousers were slim and fitting, paired with a light white tunic and a pale blue jacket adorned with druid symbols. Over it, Merlin wore a cape of deep blue colour, dragging behind on the floor just a little bit. He had a silver bracelet, wrapping around his left hand like tender leaves and atop his head, to signal his status as a prince, he had the circlet, the silvers curves resting against his forehead. 

Merlin hated it. He had tried, many times before, to wear something more simple, but that was the farthest he ever managed to get. 

“You’ll survive,” Floris said, giving Merlin’s shoulder a small squeeze as he smiled at him. “Think about it like this, at least it’s not that awful chainmail Prince Arthur is wearing all of the time.”

The boy laughed at that, shaking his head slightly and inwardly frowning when the circlet remains unmoved by the action. “Oh, no, poor Arthur,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

Floris sighed, “do not be harsh on him,” he said softly, having witnessed part of the interaction between the two princes earlier that day. “He did not know who you were.”

Merlin turned to glare at him, because Floris should know that it did not make the situation better. “If anything, it makes the situation worse,” he told him and turned around to exit the room, composing himself as he looked at the two guards. “Would be so kind and please show me the way to the great hall?”

The guards, who must have heard Merlin previously raising his voice at Floris for foolish things (but really, the old druid deserved it), managed to conceal their surprise at his tone of voice rather quickly. 

One of them took a step forward, “this way, sire,” he gestured to the left. Merlin thanked him and followed as the other guard fell behind, it almost made the young prince wonder whether he was a guest or a prisoner. Dwelling on such thoughts would not do him well, so Merlin simply pushed them away, Floris would follow soon and make sure that Merlin could run away if he really wanted to and he had much bigger problems to deal with.

The main one was to face the hall full of Camelot’s nobles and pretend that he doesn’t hate being in Arthur Pendragon’s proximity. 

Merlin takes a deep breath, noticing Floris had caught up to him as they stood next to the doors. “Are you ready?” the druid asked, Merlin wanted to say no and run, but he had responsibilities, those were the life of a prince, and he nodded his head.

The young prince could swear that many conversations hushed as he entered the hall, and he could practically feel the way many eyes turned to stare at him. He smiled a little, trying not to let his nerves show as he greeted politely the few men and women who approached him. Uther may have legalised magic, but Merlin had no doubt many of the people were cautious and wary of him as if they didn’t realise that it was him who was wary.

“Prince Merlin,” came that one voice he did not want to hear, the one person that he had wished to avoid at all costs. 

Alas, his luck was terrible, and as slowly as he possibly could, Merlin turned to look at the blonde man next to him. “Prince Arthur,” he greeted with a small nod of his head, his eyes slightly narrowed and his voice strained.

Arthur cleared his throat, and Merlin found himself enjoying the way the prince was squirming. “I believe I owe you an apology,” he said, but the younger simply raised his eyebrows at him, not buying into it at all. “My behaviour earlier today was inappropriate and unacceptable.” 

“It truly was,” Merlin said, shameless but not the only one as he could hear a chuckle from behind Arthur, one of his knights perhaps. “So, have you apologised to your servant yet?”

Arthur’s eyes grew wider as he looked at Merlin, taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?”

“I asked, did you or did you not apologise the servant you had been so gleefully terrorising earlier today? I’m sure he is quite shaken after having daggers thrown his way,” Merlin’s voice was steady and confident, determination shining in his blue eyes. “No? Well, then I believe you owe him an apology more than you owe one to me,” he said when it seemed as if Arthur would not answer.

The two princes looked at one another for a moment longer before Merlin snorted, his disappointment showing as he turned his back on Arthur and walked away. “I like this kid,” he could swear that he heard the same knight as before say. 

Merlin hadn’t gotten far before he was stopped again, this time but a much more welcome face. “Lady Morgana!” he called out, obviously more excited to be in her presence than to be in that of Arthur.

“Please, if you insist that I call you Merlin then you must call me Morgana,” the beautiful woman said, a small chuckle on her lips. 

“I’m sorry, of course, Morgana,” he said with a roll of his eyes, his smile softening a bit when he noticed Guinevere behind her lady. “Hello Guinevere,” he greeted her, and the maid smiled at him with evident surprise.

“Oh, you’ve met Gwen?” Morgana asked, seemingly happy of the news and the boy nodded with a bright smile. 

Guinevere, encouraged by the two nobles, stepped forward. “We met in the market, after the Arthur fiasco,” she explained, Merlin couldn’t help but snort at the mention. He should have known that the gossip would give the accident a name by now.

Morgana’s eyes narrowed at that as she turned her gaze back to the druid prince, “I’ve heard of what happened. Arthur can be an outright prat, I truly am sorry that you’ve been wrapped into marrying such an idiot,” she said, her voice a bit louder so it could reach Arthur who was still not too far from them. “How’s your arm doing?”

Aware of the eyes set on him, Merlin had to resist the urge to smirk as he moved his arm slowly. “It’s a bit sore still,” he said in a soft and hurt voice. “Perhaps I should go to see a physician, make sure that there was no damage,” he continued, a spark in his eyes as he allowed his gaze to move backwards towards Arthur.

“That little-” he could hear Arthur’s voice.

“Such a brute don’t deserve someone like you,” Morgana said, the spark in her eyes was enough to show on whose side she was on. Merlin was ever so grateful. Both of them would have continued on the subtle attack of Prince Arthur, but the horns echoed around the room, signalling the arrival of the king.

Merlin offered a small bow to Morgana before he moved to his place at the table, offering Arthur a very fake smile as he took his place next to him at the high table. Merlin wanted to sit elsewhere, but as an esteemed guest of the king and Arthur’s betrothed, he wasn’t given a choice.

“We have been very fortunate over the years, but finally, we are approaching a time of peace and prosperity. It gives me joy to see us all here today and know what we have achieved,” Uther began, facing the hall as he moved towards his seat at the centre of the high table. “It gives me even greater joy to introduce Lady Helen of Mora.”

Merlin applauded with the rest of the hall, sitting down once King Uther had and turned his eyes to the lady on the stage, soft music playing. The young prince smiled as Lady Helen began to sing, her voice was one of the most beautiful he had ever heard, as a lover of music, he did not wish to miss a beat.

Alas, a deep dark feeling settled in his stomach as his eyes grew heavy with the song, Helen’s eyes were fixated on Arthur as she began to walk off the stage. Before Merlin could even think of what he was doing, he placed his hands over his ears, watching as all around him, people began to fall asleep.

Soon, the candles went out, and the eyes of the court closed. Helen pulled a dagger out of her sleeve, her eyes flashing over to Merlin with curiosity as he held his breath.

‘ _One cannot change their colours,_ ’ a voice echoed inside his mind, ‘ _the Pendragon line cannot be allowed to continue._ ’

Panic filled Merlin, he knew that the new developments were fragile, if someone was to use magic to kill Arthur, would Uther start another purge? And yes, Arthur was a prat of the highest degree, it still did not mean that he deserved to die. It wasn’t right.

Merlin didn’t allow himself much time to think, his eyes moving to the chandelier above Helen and with a flash of gold, the metal structure crushed down on the witch. 

Slowly, the people around him began to open their eyes, murmuring as they looked around in confusion, trying to understand what had happened and Merlin allowed his hands to fall from where they covered his ears.

Lady Helen, or whoever it was that pretended to be her, slowly raised her head to look at him, eyes filled with hatred. “You’ll betray your own kind,” she hissed and with the last of her powers threw the daggers towards him.

“Merlin!” 

The air was knocked out of him as he was pushed to the ground, the weight of another person resting on top of him. 

“A-Arthur?” he asked, turning to look at those bright blue eyes as they stared back at him. “You’re really heavy,” he said after a short moment.

The prince laughed, but quickly got up to his feet, offering a hand for Merlin to take. “Are you alright?” he asked once Merlin was back on his feet. The younger prince wasn’t sure how to respond, he felt as if he wasn’t inside his own body as he looked at where the dagger struck his chair. She would have killed him.

Shaking out of Arthur’s grasp, Merlin slowly moved around the table, his entire body trembling as he looked at the unmoving witch on the ground. 

He had to check.

Before he could get to her, Floris moved to block his path, his green eyes a shade darker. “She’s dead, sire,” he said, but Merlin didn’t want to believe him, he shook his head and pushed past him, falling down to the ground next to her, but Floris stopped him once more, not allowing him to touch it. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“No,” Merlin said, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I just wanted her to stop,” he said, unable to control his voice as it cracked.

“Merlin,” Floris sighed, trying to soothe the young prince but Merlin didn’t let him, he shook him away as he stood up, his eyes glistening with his tears. “It’s not your fault.”

But Merlin didn’t believe him, it was his magic that killed this witch, it wasn’t his place to take a life -- it wasn’t right. He continued to shake as he looked around him, tears starting to slide down his face as he tried to conceal the sob behind his hands. 

“Merlin,” Arthur’s voice was soft as he tried to approach him, but Merlin simply shook his head at him. No, he wouldn’t understand, he couldn’t understand.

And before anyone could stop him, Merlin ran out of the hall, he needed to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, but Merlin had literally been saving Merlin's life throughout the show and while it is still going to be a big part of the plot (Merlin saving Arthur), it's going to be a lot more balanced between them in my story. Not mention that now Merlin is going to have to admit that maybe Arthur isn't that terrible of a person.

**Author's Note:**

> And here we start, most chapters would be written from one pov: Arthur, Merlin and Morgana, with a few chapters showing a changing pov of minor characters. Once the majority of the OCs would be introduced, I'll make sure to post a special author notes with detailed information about them, including some of the differences about this world canon characters.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, see you next week!


End file.
